Read Arresting Desires (Lexie Sarcone Romance Series) Online
Authors: Elisa Archer
Arresting Desires (Lexie Sarcone Romance Series)
Arresting Desires
Elisa Archer
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, events, and other concepts are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, establishments, events, and locations is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author.
Copyright © 2014 Elisa Archer
All rights reserved.
Author’s Note:
The following contains descriptive sexual content.
Other books by Elisa Archer:
Detecting Desires (
Lexie Sarcone Romance, #1)
Arresting Desires (
Lexie Sarcone Romance, #2)
Coming Soon:
Investigating Desires (
Lexie Sarcone Romance, #3)
“Lexie,” Detective Michael Riley whispered in my ear as he leaned over the bed, “I’ve got to go to work.”
I opened my eyes.
Just looking at Michael took my breath away. He stood next to the bed, still buttoning his shirt, his taut, sinewy muscles bunching as his hands moved effortlessly over the buttons. His blue eyes sparkled, and his gorgeous lips formed a playful grin. I wasn’t even asleep yet, and Michael had to leave. I only got into bed an hour earlier, after working third shift at the precinct. With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, there had been a lot of recent break-ins, keeping all of us in burglary division busy. Last night, my partner and I had responded to a smash and grab at a jewelry store. It was the same robbery that Michael had been called in early this morning to investigate. Sometimes it really sucked to be a cop and to be dating a cop.
“Be careful,” I responded, wishing he didn’t have to leave.
He
kissed me on the mouth, sending chills down my spine. Ever since we had officially become a couple, consummating our relationship during a city-wide power outage that had left the precinct completely abandoned, we had barely gotten to spend any real time together. At work, there had been a few stolen glances and longing looks, but we did our best to maintain professional boundaries. Michael’s ex-girlfriend, Det. Samantha Preston, tended to loiter, and since I had no desire to be on anyone’s shit list, we were trying to keep a low profile.
I watched him turn, clip his handcuffs, shield, and gun to his belt, and put his jacket on.
It must be nice to be a detective and get to wear actual clothes instead of the annoying uniform. He went to my door, and I stared at his perfectly formed, tight ass. He turned and smirked, probably having felt my eyes on him, before flipping the lock back in place, and closing the door behind him.
Sighing, I scooted a
cross the bed, nestling against the remaining warmth from where he had been asleep all night. I buried my face in his pillow and inhaled. It was the perfect intoxicating mixture of aftershave, soap, and something purely Michael. Letting out a frustrated growl, I closed my eyes.
Waking up, I stared at the neon
glow from the digital clock. I hated working third shift, particularly in the winter. It meant there was no chance to see actual sunlight. By the time I got up, the sun had already set. As I pulled my clothes out of the closet, I wondered if Michael was going to stay at my place again tonight or if he was going back to his place. It seemed the only way we got to see one another was by having daily sleepovers, and even then, it was only an hour or two before he’d have to leave for work. When was the last time we even had sex?
Okay, maybe it wasn’t just the job, the winter, and the uniform that were grating on my nerves.
Maybe it was the fact that we had started out hot and heavy, and now we were like an old married couple. Sure, we lay beside each other in bed, but there was no touching. No intimacy. No time to do anything except sleep and work. Whatever happened to being young and vibrant? We were both in our twenties. Obviously, there was something wrong with this picture.
After eating
breakfast, or maybe it was actually dinner, I filled my travel cup with coffee and headed for the station. At the precinct, I found Officer Kemper waiting for me. He looked agitated.
“Hey,
Sarcone,” he called, “did you finish your report from last night’s break-in?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because the brass is bitching.”
He rolled his eyes. “I was afraid it was something we had done.”
“We didn’t do anything.” I was already being defensive.
“We responded to the call, took the owner’s statement and information, and waited for Det. Holowitz to take over the scene.”
“Then I guess
it’s Holowitz’s ass on the line.” Kemper’s lips curled into a cruel smile. It was no secret that none of us liked Holowitz. He thought he was god’s gift to crime fighting, and everyone else was an incompetent hindrance. What made this even more irritating was the fact that he didn’t hesitate to share his point of view with the rest of us.
“So,” I threw a cautious glance around the squad room, “what have we been assigned to do this tour?”
“Same old, same old,” Kemper responded. “Did you want to drive tonight?”
“Not particularly.”
We were stuck patrolling the neighborhood and waiting for dispatch to send us out on calls.
Retreating to the locker room, I changed into my uniform and grabbed the thick study guide I had picked up for the detective’s exam.
I still wasn’t certain if I wanted to be a detective, or even if I had what it took to investigate more serious crimes, but Michael had been a source of constant encouragement for the last couple of weeks, and it might give us more opportunities to work together.
“Studying up?” Kemper asked as I met him beside the squad car we had been assigned.
“It couldn’t hurt.
What do you think?”
“Why don’t you quiz me while I drive?
Then we’ll trade off after our break, and I’ll quiz you while you drive.”
“You’re taking the exam too?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Let’s see how much I know before I give you a definitive answer,” he hedged.
~*~
Kemper and I had stopped at the twenty-four hour Greek diner and ordered lunch. Well, it seemed like lunch. To the normal world, it would have seemed ridiculous. We both ordered submarine sandwiches and fries. As we waited for our food to be prepared, my gaze traveled to a shop across the street. It was four a.m. While it wasn’t unusual to encounter people still out and about, the two men standing around in dark clothing had sent my radar buzzing.
“Maybe we should take a stroll while we wait for our lunch,” I suggested, nudging Kemper in the ribs and directing his eyes to the suspicious men.
“After all that riding around, I need to stretch my legs,” he retorted.
Casually, we headed across the street. Although, it was hard for two uniformed police officers to appear casual at four in the morning.
The two men spotted us and took to leaning against the brick wall.
“Evening,” Kemper greeted as we approached.
One of the two men nodded in response. “Can I help either of you gentlemen with anything?”
“Nah.
We’re good,” the one who nodded replied.
“Sir, would you mind showing me some identification?” Kemper asked in a polite, authoritarian tone.
“What for?” the other guy asked. “We’re not bothering anybody.” His friend turned and gave him an angry glare, signaling he should shut up.
“You don’t need to see our IDs.
We’ve not done anything wrong,” the first guy insisted. He cast his eyes at me, staring far too long at my breasts. I was used to behavior like that when I was working undercover, but not when I was in full police uniform. “Maybe you and the little lady should get back to work and stop hassling us.”
“Little lady?” My eyebrows went skyward.
“Do you see this badge? Or were your eyes unable to make it past my tits? That’s Officer to you.” The most annoying thing about this job was the lack of respect. Having started my career in vice, I thought my barely concealed tits and ass were the reason for the lack of respect. Apparently it had more to do with lacking a dick, or maybe it was just because men could be dicks. Kemper shot me a glance, and I tried to be more professional.
“Whatever.
We’re going,” one of the men said, and they both took off down the street.
“Crisis averted,” Kemper whispered as we went back to the diner to pick up our meals.
“But do me a favor and stick a post-it on my desk so I don’t mistakenly call you ‘little lady’.”
“Ha ha.”
I gave him a withering glare, and he held up his hands, crossing his pointer fingers in an X. “I think that gesture only works on witches, not bitches,” I teased. And he cracked a smile.
Returning to the car, we sat inside and ate while I skimmed throug
h the next chapter in the book. After an encounter like this, I realized how much I wanted to get away from patrol and do something more meaningful.
“
Sarcone. Kemper. Get your asses in here,” the lieutenant bellowed as soon as we set foot inside the precinct. Obediently, we went into his office. “We got a civilian complaint against the both of you. Why were you harassing two men this morning?”
“Two men?”
Kemper considered the calls we had responded to, but I realized what two men the lieutenant was talking about.
“We weren’t harassing them.
They looked suspicious. They were both wearing dark clothing and loitering outside a closed shop at four a.m. We went over and asked if they needed any assistance,” I began, but Kemper jumped in.
“I asked if I could see their IDs.
They declined, and that was it.”
The lieutenant studied each of us for a moment, sighing loudly.
“Don’t let it happen again.” His sentiment made little sense. We hadn’t done anything, and we couldn’t prevent some hooligans from phoning in a complaint even though nothing had happened. He looked at the roster. “I’m rescheduling both of you. Take the next shift off. I don’t want the idiots from IA to think I’m overlooking civilian complaints, even if they are bogus.” He glowered at us. “This better be bogus,” he warned.
“Aye, sir,” I responded, equally
irate and thrilled to have a day off. Kemper was angry and muttered under his breath as he followed me to the locker rooms.
“Can you believe this shit?” he asked.
“We didn’t do anything. Hell, we might have thwarted a burglary, and what thanks do we get? Oh yeah, we get our wrists slapped and end up suspended for a day.”
“We’re not suspended.
Suspension looks bad. We’ve been rewarded for our diligence with a day off.” I was trying to put a positive spin on the situation. There was a good chance with the unexpected time off I could work my womanly wiles on Michael. My body ached for him. Cool it, Lexie, I chided, trying to get my mind out of the gutter and away from all of the slutty things I wanted to do with my boyfriend.
“Yeah, an unpaid day
off.” He continued to gripe as we parted ways.
After I changed back into my
street clothes, I was on my way out of the building as Michael was coming in. “Hey, stranger,” he greeted, smiling lecherously. “What are you doing here so late?” He looked at his watch. “I’m only thirty minutes early, but you should have been home an hour ago.”
“Our last call ran late and then,” I rolled my eyes, “I got chewed out because of a civilian complaint.”
“Ouch.
Are you okay? Do you want me to go kick someone’s ass?” He was kidding, but I still appreciated the protective sentiment.
“Well, Detective,” my voice sounded sultry, and his eyes darkened, “it seems I’m off duty for an entire day.
Whatever will I do with all that free time?”
“I have some suggestions,” he growled in my ear.
“Meet me at my place at seven. I should be finished by then.”
“I’d like to be there when you finish,” I purred, blushing at my own brazen innuendo.
“God, Lexie, you’re killing me.” His voice sounded hoarse, and he gave me a quick peck. “Seven o’clock. If I’m not home by then, let yourself in.”
“Detective Riley,”
I said, sounding suddenly formal since a few officers had just entered the double doors we were standing next to, “have a good day.”
“Oh
, I will.” He cast a sideways glance at me and continued inside. At least I had found a way to salvage my unofficial suspension.
I went home and avoided sleeping.
If I was going to get to spend the night with Riley, I wanted the two of us to be on the same sleep schedule. So to keep busy, I spent the entire day reading through the study guide for the detective’s exam. After completing all the practice questions and rereading my notes, I was starting to believe this was something I could do. No more uniforms. No more patrols. And a lot more Michael. Smiling, I hopped into the shower in preparation for tonight.
When I got out, I dug through the bottom of my underwear drawer looking for my lace thong and matching see-through bra.
They were brand new, and I wanted tonight to be special. Despite the fact Michael might be tired after getting home from work, I figured he would enjoy the surprise. Sliding into my little black dress, I studied my reflection in the mirror. My long brown hair was curled in loose waves, and the physical demands of my job had ensured my waist and thighs had stayed trim and strong while my C-cup sized rack added just the right amount of curve. Damn, I was hot. I giggled at the conceited thought. It was funny because one day I’d look in the mirror and think ‘blah’, and other times, I actually thought I was something special. Pondering if that meant my self-image was healthy, I got into my car and headed for Michael’s apartment.
The clock on the dashboard clicked to seven, and I got out of the car.
Knocking on his apartment door, there was no answer. I tried again. Obviously, he had been delayed. I dug through my purse for his spare key, considering that having a key to his place might be a step beyond where our still-new relationship was, but grateful not to have to stand outside his apartment all night in heels and a dress looking pathetic and wanton.
As the hours ticked by, the fatigue began to set in.
If I wasn’t so tired, I would have been livid. But it was hard to maintain the anger when I just as easily could be delayed by a work snafu. It was the job. “Fucked up job,” I bitched to the empty room. The dress was starting to get uncomfortable, and I found the pile of clean laundry that Michael hadn’t bothered to put away. Slipping out of my dress and into one of his t-shirts, which fit me like a dress, I sprawled out on the couch.
~*~
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he cooed in my ear. “I tried to get here as soon as I could, but,” I opened an eye and stared sleepily at him, “I’ll tell you about it in the morning. Let’s get you to bed.” He scooped me into his arms and carried me to his bedroom.
I heard myself whimper and moan.
Opening my eyes, I realized it was morning and I was draped across Michael’s chest. I had been in the midst of the most delectable wet dream, and unknowingly, I had been grinding my mound against the ridge of his hipbone. My leg was draped across his torso, and he was holding it in place with a firm hand on my thigh while his other hand rubbed my back.
“This is embarrassing,” I murmured, lifting my head off his chest.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I was curious to see if you’d come in your sleep,” he said slyly.
I felt my cheeks heat at his words. “Plus, it’s been fun watching you. I’m sorry about last night.”
“And I’m sorry about unconsciously molesting you,” I added, rolling away from him.
I was wearing his t-shirt over my thong and lace bra, except my juices had soaked through the thin fabric and had left obvious signs of my arousal against his leg. Could this morning start out any worse?
“You can molest me anytime you want,” he replied,
flipping on top of me and pinning me against the mattress. “I found the entire thing incredibly erotic.” His erection pressed into my stomach, and in my already turned-on state, an expectant moan escaped from the depths of my throat. “Lexie, I really am sorry about last night. I tried to call, but you didn’t pick up.”
“My phone was on
vibrate. I didn’t want there to be any interruptions last night.” I remembered my dress and the high hopes I had held. “Maybe this just isn’t working. Or rather, I’m working and then you’re working, so we can’t work together,” I rambled.
“Nonsense,” he insis
ted, reaching for the hem of the t-shirt and pulling it over my head in one fluid motion. His eyes were transfixed by my breasts, barely concealed by the diaphanous material. “Fuck,” he exhaled, his voice deep and husky. A moment later, he was sliding his body downward so he could suckle one of my nipples through the material.
My back arched, bowing into him.
Instantly, my desire deepened and pooled at the apex of my thighs as he nipped and laved over the lace. The thin, coarse texture created the perfect amount of friction and sensation. As I panted and moaned, he continued the pleasurable torment, mixing the right amount of pain from his playful nips to counteract the soothing, sweet relief of his tongue and lips. My hands were in his hair, then on his shoulders, clawing into his toned deltoids. If he continued any longer, I would reach climax with nothing more than this erogenous stimulation.
My breath came in ragged heaves, and he sensed I was getting close.
As I dug my nails into his tight, toned muscles, he bit down a final time. I screamed his name, and my walls clenched painfully, finding nothing to grip. He covered my mouth with a brief kiss, and as I tried to catch my breath from this new experience, he planted soft kisses along the column of my neck and sucked gently against my pulse point.
“I didn’t know you could
do that,” I breathed.
He stopped his tender ministrations and smiled.
“Actually, I think you did that.” I reached for the stiff protrusion seeking freedom from his pajama shorts, but he grabbed my hand. “This is my way of apologizing, so let me pleasure you.”
Lying
back, I stared up at him expectantly through my lashes. “Then make love to me, now, Michael. Please.” My voice was filled with need and lust.
Without hesitating he
reached into the top drawer of the nightstand and retrieved a condom. He placed the foil package next to me as he stood up, removing the only article of clothing he wore –his pajama shorts. Slowly, he crept back up my body. He hooked his fingers inside the waistband of my thong, and I lifted my hips as he pulled it down my legs and flung it behind him. I giggled, and he bent and kissed the hidden bud nestled at the top of my folds, sucking it gently before swirling his tongue around the overly sensitive flesh. My body reacted, but I reached down, grabbing a fistful of that perfect length of dark brown hair, and pulling his head away from my center. He understood that I needed him inside of me.
Kneelin
g above me, I ran my hands along his powerful thighs, enjoying the sight of the perfect muscular V that culminated with his full, throbbing cock. I licked my lips as he sheathed his member in the condom. He positioned himself at my entrance, and as I ran my hands up his washboard abs, he slid into me.
“Oh,
Lexie,” he exhaled, burying himself to the hilt in my molten center. His eyes rolled back as he relished the tight, slippery heaven my body provided.
That first moment of complete fullness was unbelievable
, and I rolled my hips, allowing my walls to fully stretch around him. Leaning over me, he held his weight on his forearms as his mouth found mine. Parting my lips, his tongue entered my mouth. Our tongues battled as he began rocking in and out of me, alternating his speed and force. I sucked his tongue hard as he thrust deeper. He groaned. His thrusts came in quicker, shorter strokes as he neared release. I tilted my hips, and locked my ankles around his waist, forcing him deeper and making sure he hit just the right spot with each delightful penetration.
His mouth released mine, and he buried his head at the crook of my neck.
As he slammed his throbbing, steel-like cock into my pussy, my legs began to tremble. The trembling moved up my thighs and settled at my core, releasing in unstoppable quakes as my entire body was wracked with tremors. My pussy clenched in spasms, milking him and sending him over the edge. He cried out muffled expletives as he continued to pump into me, lengthening my own orgasm.
Sated, Michael collapsed on top of me, and I clung to him.
As he rolled us over, so not to crush me, I realized he was still inside of me. Oh god, he could stay inside of me forever, I thought wistfully. All too soon, he pulled out with a regretful grunt and removed the used condom. Snuggling against him, we drifted back to sleep.
